Grab her while she’s watching her damn telenovela

She’s sprawled on the couch, panting at the drama, ass sticking up like a target—no one’s home but him. He yanks her hair back, shoves her face into the cushions, and dives in with his vergota. She yelps, spilling tequila on the remote. ‘Más, mijo,’ she begs between moans, legs shaking as he sends her into sentones. The telenovela’s crying. She’s screaming louder. He ain’t stopping till her panocha’s raw and the credits roll.